


Sometimes We Run

by badassontheblock



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a Tumblr Post, Battle of Hogwarts, Boys Kissing, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Tumblr Prompt, becaude fuck that, because we all know how this ends, we’re drizzling Drarry on this desert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 09:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16972062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badassontheblock/pseuds/badassontheblock
Summary: Prompt: Please don’t do this.Or, Harry’s late realization of all the things that could have been, and the resulting emotional casualties.





	Sometimes We Run

**Author's Note:**

> I know I haven’t posted in forever. Years. Centuries. I honestly can’t say my posting will ever be regular, but I love you all who read my stories regardless! Considering this is my other main ship, I think it’s time I added some Drarry on here, so here’s this little oneshot! Please enjoy, and let me know if you’d like another chapter or two <3

 

Harry could still feel the pressure of Draco’s arms around his middle, a fantom touch added to the hundreds of ghosts the Battle of Hogwarts would leave. When had he stopped being just Malfoy and started being, well, Malfoy? It could have been the moment their eyes met in the manor, adrenaline and pain running through Harry’s body, when he’d seen all his own fear echoed back to him in waves of grey. It could have been the split second when Malfoy’s sweaty hand slipped out of his as he grabbed for it blindly, when for a moment Harry thought he was going to lose him to the fire. It could have happened when “sectumsempra” rolled off his tongue and he watched Malfoy collapse to the floor in a fountain of his own blood.

 

There were a million times he’d thought of Malfoy over the past year, but then again he always seemed to be thinking about Malfoy. When had that started to mean something to him?

 

Laying in the middle of a decimated corridor, soot on his lips and smoke still in his lungs, Harry let the first beginnings of panic set in. He’d almost lost him. So close, the scorch marks on the wall seemed to whisper. So fucking close. If he hadn’t caught his hand, if Malfoy had been too heavy for the broom, if he’d lost him—

 

“—arry! Harry, we’ve got to go!”

 

He forced himself to turn his head. Someone was crouched over him. Now they were shaking his shoulders. Ron. Ron and Hermione. The battle. Voldemort. They were yelling, something about moving, and get up Harry we don’t have time for this!

 

Right, he wasn’t allowed to think about Malfoy right now. Why wasn’t he allowed to think about Malfoy again?

 

The battle. Right. He needed to get up. He couldn’t keep laying here while people continued to die. Just like Draco almost did, his thoughts whispered in the back of his head. Harry closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, willing his mind to shut the fuck up please.

 

Hermione was pulling him up now, and they had to go. Somewhere to his left Hardy heard a soft moan, but he didn’t let himself look. He knew Malfoy was alright. He was fine, and he would stay fine. They had a job to do. He couldn’t let himself get caught up in this, the same way he shouldn’t have let himself get caught up in his pathetic feelings for his childhood-nemesis-turned-Death-Eater. Maybe then he wouldn’t be here, trying to turn away from what was clearly a lot more than a simple crush.

 

Harry could feel himself running down halls, ducking spells and yelling his own in retaliation, and with each pounding footstep he woke up more and more. The fear and worry for Draco was slowly pushed to the back of his mind as he forced himself to focus and forget the beautiful boy still laying in the corridor floors above him. Right now they were alive. Right now Hermione and Ron were running with him. Here, now, in this second he had a battle to fight.

 

His feelings had hit him like a Crucio as he’d felt Draco’s fingers slip from his in the blazing room. They were always there, but only now did Harry really understand how much he would regret it if he continued to pretend they didn’t exist. Maybe after this hell was over, maybe if he and Draco made it out alive there’d be time for— well, nothing really, but maybe he’d at least speak to him. Harry would take anything right now, just so long as Draco’s heart kept beating. And it would. He swore it then and there. No matter how this ended, Draco was going to live.

 

But first he had to take care of a psychopath.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry was still shaking. Remus, Tonks, Fred— they’d lost too many. This was too high a price. He stared down into a silvery depths of the Pensieve and took a deep breath before leaning forward. Whatever Snape had to show him, he couldn’t help but childishly hope it would fix this.

 

Just before his nose touched the swirling liquid, Harry thought he felt the brush of something against his side. It may have been his imagination, but he swore the air shimmered a bit. Before he had time to consider it, he was being wrenched head first into Snape’s memory.

 

Harry let the colors and sounds wash over him in shocked silence. He saw Snape meet his mother, he watched them play. He saw them become friends, time jumping from one scene to the next faster than he could follow. He saw them laugh together. He saw his own father, and Moony and Padfoot and Wormtail. He saw it all from Snape’s eyes, and the truth couldn’t have been spoken louder with Veritaserum.

 

Snape had been in love with his mother. Snake had protected Harry for her, and now Dumbledore was saying things that made no sense, yet things that made perfect sense all at once. Of course he would have to die. Of course it had all been too good for him. The world just had to fuck with him further, because when did Harry Potter ever get a happy ending? It was even more ludicrous that the only thought running through his head was, I’ll never talk to Draco again. Even that’s been taken from me.

 

Harry didn’t feel himself gasp, but he must have, because the sound echoed through Dumbledore’s office right before he was once more pulled up and out of the memory. He surfaced and came staggering back, almost tripping over a chair in the process.

 

He was going to have to die. Somehow, Harry only felt numb. He couldn’t tell anyone. Ron and Hermione would try to stop him. No one would let him go. They wouldn’t understand that this was the only way, this was what needed to be done in order for them to live. He didn’t have a choice. None of them did. This had been orchestrated perfectly for seventeen years. Harry had never felt more like a puppet.

 

“Don’t even fucking think about it, Potter!” Hissed a familiar voice. Harry whirled around fast enough to get whiplash, wand already out and pointed at Draco’s chest.

 

“When did you get here?” He breathed. He hadn’t heard him come in. In fact, he hadn’t seen him anywhere since the Room of Requirement.

 

“I’ve been here the whole time, you prat,” Draco looked livid, his voice trembling. “Common Disillusionment Charm.”

 

“The whole— you were in there with me?!” Harry took a step back and almost tripped over the same chair again. “How does that even work?”

 

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Draco took a step forward, ignoring the wand still pointed at his chest. “All I know is you are not going to give yourself up like some fucking martyr.”

 

“Why were you even up here?” Harry sputtered. “Trying to kill me yourself? Is that why you won’t let me go?”

 

“No, you fucking prick! I thought you were— I don’t know, trying to— going to, to do yourself in or some other stupid shit, so I followed you and—“ Draco suddenly pressed a pale hand over his mouth, looking down at the floor and swallowing hard. He took a deep breath and looked back up, and Harry was shocked to see how watery his eyes were. “I wish you had come up here to off yourself. Then I could have called you a coward, or yelled, and convinced you you were being an utter prat. But this shit—“

 

Draco stopped suddenly, swallowing again. Harry knew he had to go, but even now he was desperate to just hear Draco’s voice, if only for a few more minutes.

 

“Why do you have to be like this?” Draco whispered. “So— so sickeningly Gryffindor. Of course you’re just going to sacrifice yourself, like you always do. Always the brave one, always the hero. Why do I have to feel like this about an idiot like you?”

 

Harry didn’t know care how it happened, all he knew was that this was the next moment he was across the room and grabbing the front of Draco’s robes, and then a hot mouth was pressing against his. They came alive against each other. Draco clutched at his shoulders, his hands reaching up to bury themselves in Harry’s hair, and it was so good. The slide of lips against his, Draco’s soft gasps and his own short whimpers. Harry just wanted to stay here forever, his mouth slowly opening to Draco’s questing tongue and god yes please yes. It was so gentle yet so intense, and Harry hadn’t even noticed when he’d started crying.

 

“Please— for the love of god—“ Draco chocked out into his mouth “don’t do this.”

 

So Harry let go. He pressed into the heat of Draco’s body and drowned in the comfort of his burning kisses. This was what it could have been like. If only. Everything was hot and wet and Harry could hardly remember anything but the feeling of Malfoy’s tongue against his. He was so warm. Funny, how someone who looked so cold and hard could be this soft. He wanted to tell Draco this. Hell, there were so many things he wanted to tell Draco. But outside, there was a war to fight. And right now, he couldn’t kiss Draco Malfoy.

 

Harry felt the tension in Draco’s lips a second before he pulled away. His grey eyes were wide as he slowly looked down at the wand poking his chest. Harry saw Draco’s mouth open to tell him to stop, please, but he never got that far.

 

“Petrificas totalus.”

 

The blonde froze, hand halfway to his own wand. Betrayal was fresh on his face, mixing with hurt and helplessness.

 

“I’m sorry,” Harry breathed shakily. So many things he wanted to say, and this was the only thing he had the courage for. “So sorry. I wish... I wish I had time. I’m sorry.”

 

Tears slowly filled Draco’s eyes until they ran over and dripped down his cheeks, one after another. Harry wiped them away, but more just took their place. Even crying, Draco still looked beautiful. Harry wanted to hide in his arms again and forget the rest of the world. He wanted to talk and explain and fix everything they could, and forgive the things that couldn’t be fixed. Instead, he turned and ran.

 

There was still a war to fight.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry sorry sorry! But we know it’ll be ok, right? Right? *sweats nervously* I hope you liked it anyway!! If anyone is interest in a resolving chapter, I may be tempted. Comments and kudos are life juice!


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